Unbreaking Harry
by mindless360
Summary: Harry blames himself for the deaths of others. Can Ron help him? Song fic to Hallelujah by Rufus Wainwright. slash


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I am simply borrowing these amazing characters. I'm not being paid to do this. The song is Hallelujah, by Rufus Wainwright. (The story flows so much better if you listen to the song while you read. )

_I've heard there was a secret cord_

_that David played and it pleased the Lord,_

_but you don't really care for music, do ya?_

He was sitting by the lake when I found him. His dark hair, grown long over the years hid his face, but I could tell he was crying. Soft sobs shook his shoulders, so gentle were they that if I hadn't known him as well as I did, I might have thought he was just sitting peacefully by the lake, lost in thought. I continued walking towards him, quickly closing the distance between us. He looked up at me when I stopped a few feet away. His green eyes were red around the edges and full of a grief so deep it took my breath away. I stared at him for a while… took in the mess before me. His clothes were dirty and wrinkled. His hair hung lank and unwashed, his eyes seemingly bare without his glasses. He was so broken…

"Harry…" I said, wondering what should come next. I wanted to rescue him. I wanted to let him know that I hurt as much as he did. Hermione's death had ruined us both. However, he had been there when she was killed. Thus, he blamed himself.

"Harry, everything will be… It will all get… I-I don't know, Harry." I sighed, allowing the tears to fall. "I just don't know."

I reached out for him then, holding my breath. He stared at me for a while, as if he were trying to figure out whether or not I was real. Finally, hands shaking, he grabbed my hand. I pulled him up and led him away from the lake. He didn't say anything. In fact, he didn't speak for the rest of the day. I remember I got so desperate I started to sing to him. He only stared at me as though he didn't really see me at all.

_It goes like this:_

_The fourth, the fifth_

_The minor fall, the major lift._

_The baffled king composing Hallelujah…_

Three days later, and he still hadn't spoken. We were back at the burrow now. It seemed much bigger now that there weren't as many Weasleys. Dad, Bill, and Fred had all died in the war. George didn't come around much anymore. Percy stopped in occasionally. He said it was to make sure we were all right, but I knew the truth. I could see it in his eyes, same as mum. He came to see if we'd heard from Charlie. When Bill had died, Charlie had gone missing. We weren't sure if he'd run away or…worse.

And then there was Ginny.

During the war, she'd been captured by Lucius Malfoy. He'd tortured her so badly that she was now deaf and completely mental. Mum refused to put her into St. Mungo's, though. She was so sure that Ginny would be ok, and refused to see that my sister was as far gone as Neville's parents.

Harry and I were sitting on the couch in the family room. Ginny sat in a corner, smiling to herself. She was absentmindedly stroking a pillow, lost in a world that only she knew. Harry's gaze rested on her. The grief was there, stronger than ever. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he moved away.

"Harry, please don't ignore me," I begged. I tried to get him to look at me, but he only kept staring at Ginny. "Harry… please." I begin to cry then, sobs shaking my entire body. I wanted him to be ok. I wanted him and I to move on from this. I wished with all my heart that he would speak. I put my head on his shoulder and continued to cry. After a while, Harry stood up and went to sit next to Ginny.

_You're faith was strong, _

_But you needed proof._

_You saw her bathing on the roof._

_Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you._

He reached out and took the pillow from her. She continued to stroke the air as though the pillow were still there. A tear slid down his cheek.

_She tied you to a kitchen chair _

_She broke your throne, she cut your hair_

_And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah._

He gently stroked a finger across her cheek. She cringed, but he didn't stop. He put his arms around her, holding her so close to him it was as though he were trying to absorb her. She began to scream, desperately trying to escape his grip, but he just continued to hold her. Finally, she began to claw at him. Her right hand dug into his face drawing blood. I stood up and ran over to them. I joined in the struggle, doing my best to pull them apart. He let her go after a while, blood leaking down his cheek. She fled the room, still screaming wordlessly. I reached up to the wound on Harry's face, but he jerked away from me. His mouth opened wide, forming a giant O and I covered my ears right before he started to scream.

_Maybe I've been here before _

_I know this room, I've walked this floor_

_I used to live alone before I knew you._

He lay on my bed, silent and still. He might've been dead, except for the slow rise and fall of his chest. He was not sleeping, only pretending to. I watched him for a while, watched him until my vision grew blurry. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to tell him everything would okay. I wanted to tell him anything that would make him be Harry again. I thought back to the previous year, the year before the final battle. We were all sixteen. Hermione was still alive and Harry was happy. I remember him lying down on my bed one night, almost like he was now. Except then, he couldn't stop speaking. Words poured from his lips like water from a fountain. He spoke of how much he loved Hogwarts, of how he hoped the war wouldn't last very long. He said that when the war was over, we'd finish our last year at Hogwarts together.

_ "Me, you, and Hermione will go back to Hogwarts with absolutely no worries. Everyone would be so proud of all us. And we'd finally be able to live in peace. Ron, you have no idea how much I'd give for peace in the wizarding world."_

"The wizarding world's at peace now, Harry," I said aloud. His breathing faltered, but he gave no other notion of having heard me. "I just wish I could say the same about us…"

_I've seen your flag on the marble arch _

_Love is not a victory march_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah._

_There was a time when you let me know _

_What's real and going on below,_

_But now you never show it to me, do you?_

"Harry, please speak to me." I was begging again. It had been a month since Harry had last spoken. I **needed** him to speak. It was now the most important thing to me, to hear his voice again. I had almost forgotten what it sounded like…

He was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. My mum sat beside him smiling at him occasionally. Ginny sat on the floor by the sink clashing two pots together. The sound was loud and echoed off the walls, but to Ginny everything was silent. We all ignored it, but inside my heart was breaking. Harry finished his breakfast and stood. He looked like he was about to say something, but stopped at the last minute. Instead, he walked over to the fireplace, grabbed some floo powder and jumped into the fire. I'm not sure if he spoke or not, but when the flames died down, he was gone.

I looked over at mum and saw that she was crying. I walked over to her side of the table and hugged her. She hugged me back and began to speak into my shoulder.

"I… miss… them… so much!" she said between sobs. "K-keep thinking… they'll be back. It's all… a dream. B-but… they won't…. come back. Oh, Ron… They won't come back." I rocked her back and forth as she cried, doing my best not to dissolve into tears as well. I felt that if I cried it'd make it worse for her, somehow. So I just did the only thing I could do… I held her in my arms. We stayed like that until the sun rose high into the sky, and came back down again. All the while, Ginny continued to bang the pots.

_And remember when I moved in you? _

_The holy dove was moving to_

_And every breath we drew was Hallelujah._

I went out to shop for mum. When I got back, Harry was there. He followed me into the kitchen to put the groceries away, and then up to my room. He sat down on the bed, and watched me. I tried to ignore his gaze, and began to sort out the dirty clothes from my clean ones. I am never this tidy, but I couldn't just sit there and stare at him. Not when he wasn't speaking at all. It was… odd.

I turned my back to him and began to shove the dirty clothes into a bag. I heard a floorboard creak behind me, but I didn't turn around. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him kneel behind me. He wrapped his arms around my body and rested his head on my shoulder. His chest was pressed against my back and I could feel him breathing, slow and even. Without thinking, I began to mirror his breathing… we were now breathing together.

"Harry, I…" Once again, I was without words. I felt him kiss my neck, so light it might have been an accident. But then he did it again, and I knew it wasn't. I turned my head a bit, and he pressed his lips against mine. I wasn't at all sure what was going on, but I liked it. I turned my body around completely and deepened the kiss.

_Maybe there's a God above_

_And all I ever learned from love_

_Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you._

We were on my bed. He was naked, we both were, and he was pressed against me. His breath was hot, and his mouth even hotter as he kissed me passionately. All too soon he was inside me and I had never felt so full in my entire life. It was as though everything that happened over the past year wasn't real. There was just me and Harry. It was so perfect, I cried a little.

It ended with me screaming his name, his hands digging into my sides. The climax; the ending. The beauty of all beauties. He kissed me in the afterglow. Soft and gentle. I decided then that everything about him was soft and gentle. That was just… Harry. I stared up into his eyes. Even in the dark, they glowed.

"Hello," he said, a slight smile on his face. I grinned up at him.

"Hello."

_It's not a cry you can hear at night _

_It's not somebody who's seen the light_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah._

The next morning, we walked down the stairs side by side, talking. Yesterday, Harry had flooed over to Dumbledor's grave to have a chat with the old headmaster. I smiled slightly as he told me, glad to hear his voice again. When we reached the kitchen, the steady flow of words stopped. I looked over to him to make sure he was all right and saw that he was staring, wide eyed, in the direction of the kitchen table. I followed his gaze, and had to blink twice at what I saw. Charlie… sitting at the kitchen table. Charlie, eating breakfast and drinking pumpkin juice. My heart nearly burst.

Within seconds I was embracing my older brother. He was very skinny now, his hair was dirty, and he smelled like he hadn't bathed in a while. But it was Charlie. He hugged me back, weakly. Behind him mum and Percy were beaming. George stood off near the sink, a cup of coffee in his hand, smiling slightly at the scene.

"Charlie," I said, smiling at him. "Where've you been?" He didn't answer. He merely sat back down and continued to eat. I watched him, waiting for a reply, but it never came.

"I found him," George said, leaning against the sink. "He seems to be all right, but he hasn't spoken a single word since he's been with me." I exchanged glances with Harry, who then went to stand beside Charlie. He put his hand on Charlie's shoulder, and just smiled.

Later that night, I remember glancing over at Charlie. Harry was seated beside him, trying to get him to talk. Harry even tried to sing to him. Charlie just stared before going up to his room and locking the door.

_Hallelujah…_


End file.
